Dimitri rubs at his own hands in unconscious sympathy. He's wearing gloves, but he feels the scars beneath acutely.

"If our positions were reversed, I'd say the same of myself," he says softly. "I am also ... something not quite human. I was born as I am -- I haven't experienced what you have -- but I know what it is to be made into a weapon, and prized as such."

He cuts himself off and shakes his head. "Forgive me if that's too much. I only mean ... we shared an understanding, and a trust, that I've shared with few others. I grieved when you were lost, and I ... " He pauses again. "I don't want to presume too much, or to overwhelm you, but I'm not sure how to proceed here."